A/N: Hey guys! I'm SO sorry about the length of this chapter. It's almost painfully short but it's exam and research paper time in school already and I haven't updated anything in AGES. I just wanted to get something out there to show people that I'm still alive and haven't forgotten my fics!

Despite the length, I hope you enjoy!

In retrospect, Kurt figured that he should have expected something strange for Blaine's surprise. But he had also figured that an evening event going by the name of "date" would entail something…elegant. What he did not expect was to be seated among a crowd of children – and a surprising number of young adults vicariously reliving their childhoods – in the theatre for The Lion King 3D.

In spite of his initial surprise, Kurt wasn't off put by Blaine's strange idea of a date in the least. He didn't even remember the last time he had done something so normal.

"You look silly," Blaine remarked as Kurt put on his 3D glasses. The dancer had waited until the commercials started rolling to adopt his non-stylish frames. Blaine, on the other hand, had them on almost before they were seated.

"Ah, but you look so normal," Kurt said with good-natured sarcasm.

"You didn't let me finish," Blaine said. "You know, platypuses look silly, but they also manage to look cute."

"So you're…comparing me to a platypus," Kurt said slowly. "I'm not sure how I should take that."

Blaine's mouth quirked up in a smile so infectious that it brought one to Kurt's face as well. "Have you seen a platypus? They're adorable."

"Shh," came a hissing voice from several rows in front of them. Blaine turned to Kurt and shrugged, a guilty smile on his face.

"This was my favorite when I was growing up," Kurt whispered as the Walt Disney logo came on the screen.

"No way," Blaine countered. "What about Aladdin?"

"I don't know," Kurt said, sneaking a peek at Blaine through his peripheral vision. "I always liked this story better. His father…the most important person in his life, his idol…he died, and Simba thinks it's his fault." Kurt tried to keep his voice level as he spoke. It was strange irony that his favorite Disney movie growing up had become the story of his life. "So he runs away, with no friends to lean on or people to support him, but he finds someone to love him anyway. After all that, he's still able to claim his rightful place as King of Pride Rock. Everyone respects him in the end."

When Kurt turned to look at Blaine, he was gaping. Having been caught, Blaine cleared his throat at looked toward the screen. "Except for those mean lions in the sequel," he said, attempting a joke. He turned to Kurt with a kind smile. "But I suppose that in the end, even they did. You're right."

Kurt turned away from Blaine's curious gaze, unable to look him in the eye any longer. He could feel his heart swell as the emotional music of the opening scene began. In spite of the fact the he knew neither the real words nor what they meant, Kurt believed it was one of the most beautiful songs in the movie.

Out of the blue, a voice from his left began nonsensically singing along with the song. Startled, Kurt realized that it was Blaine, and he was nudging him in the elbow for him to join. Kurt shook his head frantically, sure that an angry mob would bombard the poor oblivious boy any second.

Then, from several seats away, a second person began to sing along. A third followed from the front of the theatre, then a fourth. Mouth opening in surprise, Kurt looked around as at least half of the people in the theatre, good voices and out of tune ones, began to sing their own interpretation of what the words sounded like.

Blaine had stopped nudging him but was staring at him expectantly. Kurt hesitated; he hadn't sung in public since his days on Broadway, before the accident that changed his life. But Blaine was beaming at him with a million watt smile that made him want to do whatever the other man requested of him. Before he could second guess himself, Kurt simply let go of his inhibitions. He opened his mouth and began singing along in his smooth countertenor, the vast majorities of his worries left behind, if only for that hour and a half.

They left the theatre laughing. When Can You Feel the Love Tonight had come on, Blaine had carefully reached over to take Kurt's hand, and the other man hadn't pulled away, even after the movie ended and the lights turned on. Blaine was feeling extremely good about the night, and it was only half over.

"I cannot believe that the crowd sang every song," Kurt said with a chuckle as they left the theatre in favor of the cold, snowy street. "I thought for certain you were going to get attacked by some disgruntled movie goer."

"Even adults have their inner child hiding inside of them somewhere," Blaine told him. "Stuff like that just brings it out." He hailed a cab and gave the driver directions.

"Where are we going?" Kurt asked, slightly confused.

"You still want that surprise, don't you?" Blaine asked him.

Kurt blinked at him. "That wasn't the surprise?"

"Of course not!" Blaine couldn't help but smile at the shocked look on Kurt's face, as if he couldn't believe someone had thought up two things to do for him rather than just one. "It was only part one. There's a sequel."

"A sequel," Kurt repeated, as if he didn't quite understand the meaning of the word. Blaine smiled at him mysteriously and shook his head, indicating that he wasn't going to give away the surprise beforehand. The last thing Kurt expected was to pull up along the curb next to Le Bernardin, arguably the best French restaurant in New York. "What is this?"

"Part two," Blaine said, hopping out of the cab and holding the door open for Kurt.

"Blaine this is Le Bernardin," Kurt said, as if Blaine didn't know where they were going. "You need reservations a million years in advance, and it's so expensive!"

Blaine smiled as he recalled exactly how he'd gotten a spot at the famous restaurant. After Kurt had left, he'd quickly gone to look up what "mon oiseau chanteur" meant. He'd recognized the French, but calling someone "songbird" in a different language wasn't something you learned from high school lessons. Blaine had quickly surmised that Kurt must have had some interest in French culture. He'd quickly called Jeff, who he knew had gone to school for photography. Since then, Blaine had heard about bits and pieces of his friend's success as a food photographer for high-scale restaurants publicizing their dining. It had sounded a bit silly to Blaine at the time, but now he was thankful for Jeff's random line of work.

He had asked advice, and it turned out that Jeff was friends with many famous chefs, something Blaine would have never guessed. He didn't know the head chef of Le Bernardin, but a quick call had many strings being pulled, and an hour later, Jeff had called Blaine back, saying that he and Kurt would have a reservation that night, and the chef was even willing to cut their dining costs if Jeff would give him a discount for a photo session. The former Warbler had been happy to agree to the barter when he found out that the man Blaine was going out with was the incredibly drunken and glittery one from the night before.

"I know some people," he said truthfully. "Some really awesome people that can pull even the most steadfast strings, apparently."

Kurt was observing him strangely, as if Blaine had grown a second head, or suddenly sprouted wings. "You have connections," he said finally, cracking a smile. "I'll say. I thought you said you moved here on your own. I'm impressed by your…resourcefulness."

They were seen in by a helpful waiter, and Kurt suddenly felt almost underdressed. He was extremely glad he hadn't worn the sweater that had been a close second choice. He'd never been anywhere as fancy as Le Bernardin before, and he was relishing in every moment. He wasn't sure how a struggling musician like Blaine had managed to pull off such a feat, but since they were currently eating some of the best food in New York, he wasn't about to complain. If he had to wash dishes for a month as a result, he was willing to take that risk.

He didn't have the first idea about what to order, so he and Blaine ended up closing their eyes and pointing at the menu. It was a juvenile sort of game, but Kurt thought it was charming. When the waiter came over, Blaine also ordered a side of escargot, "because what better time to eat some snails than right now?" Kurt wasn't sure he agreed with that, but when the snails came he was daring enough to try a few.

The evening passed too fast; Kurt was dreading its end with every speeding second, because he knew he just had to go to work afterward. Before he knew it, a bill came – with a surprisingly small amount written on it. He haggled with Blaine for several minutes about paying before finally deciding to go Dutch.

"I hope I haven't kept you too long," Blaine said as they exited the perfect restaurant – one that Kurt would never forget. "I know you're probably pressed for time."

Kurt waved his hand. He was already a little bit late for his shift, but being best friends with the manager was good for nothing if not getting cut a little slack every now and then. "It isn't a problem, I promise." And I didn't want to leave.

Blaine seemed to hesitate. "Your apartment is just a little bit out of the way from mine if you want to share a cab back."

Kurt averted his eyes. "Actually, I should probably go straight to work." He wasn't sure what Blaine meant by the offer. He didn't seem like the type to move quickly, and by the blush coloring his cheeks, Kurt feared that Blaine might have thought he was purposefully escaping him.

A genuine smile crossed Kurt's face as he looked at Blaine. "I still can't believe you did all of this. You know, I'm not that difficult to impress."

"I wanted to," Blaine said with a crooked grin. "I don't know why you're surprised. You're worth doing extravagant things for, you know."

Kurt immediately colored. He hardly knew Blaine, and yet he was saying intimate things like that with complete confidence. Yet he felt like he did know Blaine, and he still wanted to know more.

"You're not used to people saying things like that, are you?" Blaine asked suddenly.

"L-like what?" Kurt stuttered, wishing the embarrassing color would leave his cheeks.

"What I just said about you being worth extravagancy," he continued. "You act like…like you don't believe me."

Kurt smiled wryly. "There's still a lot you don't know about me. It would change your mind."

"I don't think so," the man replied with confidence. "But why don't you give it your best shot?"

Kurt's grin grew impossibly wide. "Blaine Anderson, you wouldn't happen to be trying to ask me out again, would you?"

"If I was?"

"I'd say that it was awfully presumptuous of you, mon oiseau chanteur," Kurt said, the nickname that he hadn't meant to give slipping from his tongue absentmindedly.

Blaine's unsure expression grew more confident upon hearing Kurt's words. "What about if I wasn't?"

"Then I would have to ask you out instead," Kurt said. "I have to do laundry again tomorrow. Maybe if we just happen to run into each other again we can decide when."

"What a weird coincidence," Blaine said, "this just happens to be my last clean outfit."

"Same time?" Kurt asked with a widening grin.

"I'll be there," Blaine answered.

Kurt hailed a cab and paused at its door. He almost desperately wanted to reach out his hand, grab the front of Blaine's shirt, and pull him closer for a fleeting kiss but he knew he wouldn't do it. His brain was much too logical. Acting on emotion had never done well by him and he didn't trust it now. It wasn't as if they were parting forever; he would see Blaine tomorrow. In fact, Kurt planned on seeing him many more times, which meant there would be many more times that would be a better time for such an action. He waved one last time, got in the car, and turned to watch Blaine's figure fade as the cab drove away.